


Sour Loser

by DigitalBrainEater



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 19:20:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5638810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DigitalBrainEater/pseuds/DigitalBrainEater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Playing Quidditch was never been easy, but in the match between the house Slytherin and Gryffindor, the expectation's of a hard match were increasing. You, a Chaser of house Slytherin, didn't took the end of the game to well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sour Loser

**Author's Note:**

> Marauders Era, so we're meeting young Severus Snape.

The deafening sound of the audience of the latest Quidditch game mixed with the countinuous falling of raindrops wasn't helping you to keep on your attention on the Quaffle, passionatly trying to lead your team to victory against the archenemy, Gryffindor. As a proud member of the house of Slytherin, you wanted nothing more than personally knocking of James Potter from his broomstick, preffered with a good old hit of a Bludger, it's not your part of the team to get rid of him. Watching the Quaffle coming closer to your position, an arm of a Gryffindor Chaser tightly wrapped around it, you laid yourself down to your broomstick and rush into the direction. Only seconds now seperated you from reaching out your fingertips for the Quaffle, something popped up in your eyesight, earned your attention and you ducked yourself from the approaching Bludger, which streaks your back rather roughly. A muffled scream escaped your mouth, the Chaser of the opposite team now out of your reach and positioning himself to throw the next goal for house Gryffindor. As the ring echoed on the Quidditch playgroud, you angryly hit your broomstick with your to a fist clenched hand.

“Gryffindor wins with 230 points, Slytherin leave with a total score of 90 points.“ Your landed on the lawn of the playground, rushing in the direction of the crew cabin of your team, wanting to get rid of the drenching clothes so you would be heading from there for the common room of your house. Disappointed would be an underestatement of your current state of mind, your team leaving you in absolut disbelief of their Quidditch skills and the mood of talking to anybody right now, especially not wanting to pump into James fucking Potter and his little gang of mindless idiots. You are absolutly on edge, stomping into the wet mood on the ground, the castle getting closer and closer with every step you take. 

Entering the common room of house Slytherin, you're throwing your broomstick thoughtless away from you and as you're about to walk into the direction of the girl's bedroom, a voice hit your ear. “Ouch!“, turning around on the same spot you were standing, you take a look over your shoulder, your [Y/E/C] meeting the black one's of Severus Snape, a fellow Slytherin of your year. “I'm sorry... Didn't watched where“ - “You lost, huh?“, he interruped you, watching you symphaticly and you respond with a faint nod. “Potter sucks.“, his voice full of disdain for the Gryffindor Seeker, you well knowing what kind of pranks he played on him. “Yeah, totally.“, you're saying, trying to sound as casual as possible, sensing an emerging tense atmosphere in the room. “You wasn't there?“, asking Severus curious, it's now his turn to nod in respond, scratching his head for a second. “You did not miss anything.“, a sad smile formed on your lips, avoiding eyecontact with your classmate. “Yeah, um, I want to get out of my clothes, so... see you later, Severus.“, rather oddly acting and talking, you begin to walk backward, hitting a sofa while on your way and you could swear that you saw a smile on Snape's face, but it was gone as quick as it appears their.


End file.
